Christmas Shopping
by Miss Pyromaniac
Summary: Dick was starting to wonder where the horror stories about this kind of shopping came in. He didn't have to wait long.


Hey! This is a little something I wrote up for the Gotham Secret Santa Tumblr event last Christmas (my gift to superjustice). I've always felt sort of proud of it, and after letting it sit for a while, I figured, "Hey, why not upload it to FF?"

Soo, here it is! Some Bruce/Dick bonding for y'all. C:

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman, nor do I own any of the characters, plotline, or etcetera. I only wish that I owned Dick Grayson. U:

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><p>"Christmas shopping?" He tried rolling the words on his tongue, but they didn't seem to fit. <em>Batman<em>wasn't the first person you'd expect to be out buying presents.

Bruce shrugged it off. "Alfred's visiting his family in England," he replied indifferently. "And somebody has to do it."

That's all there really was to the matter.

So the two of them got in their car, started the engine, and were off. To the millionaire's credit, he had managed to put it off until Christmas eve – as long as he could until he figured he couldn't wait any longer. It wasn't the best idea in hindsight, because both were surprised at how many people had had the same idea. Nearly every single parking lot was _packed_.

"Good Lord, it's like Black Friday." The elder muttered under his breath, twisting through the aisles in an attempt to find a parking spot.

Dick couldn't remember ever shopping in such a busy setting, and he awed in the sheer number of people who met them at the doors. Actually, he'd never much shopped at all. The circus more or less provided for you, besides whatever snacks you wanted at the convenience stores when the caravans stopped on their way to the next event. The constant buzzing, the crowded hallways, the plain lack of courtesy from everybody vying for the same item on the shelf; it was entirely overwhelming.

But the young ward adapted well, and all he had to do was stick close to Bruce. The man had a way of parting crowds even in last-minute shopping rushes. He knew exactly where they were going, and had a list of what he might get depending on what was still available. The plan was to be in and out as quickly as possible.

And heck, apparently there were a fair amount of people to shop for. Alfred was first on the list, followed by Dick, Lucius Fox, and some business partners whose names Dick recognized from attendance lists from some of the Wayne Manor parties. Below those were names whom the boy assumed were for Batman to deliver: Commissioner Gordon, Barbara, and, oddly enough, Selina Kyle.

Honestly, he wasn't really concerned with exactly _what_his mentor was buying for his recipients – he was much to focused on the people-watching, and flat-out keeping up with the determined man. The frantic social scene fascinated him. Half of Gotham must have decided to shop on the day before the big day, he mused. Every other aisle featured two or more people rushing to grab the same thing before it was gone, and people really knew how to fight dirty to get what they wanted. One frizzy brown-haired woman had run past them three times in missions to snatch a board game or pack of cards from other shoppers who were too busy quieting their distressed children to notice. At least nobody dared to try pulling such a move on a man as intimidating as Bruce. Still, it was an exciting experience.

Dick was starting to wonder where the horror stories about this kind of shopping came in. He didn't have to wait long.

The two bounced from small store to small store before hitting Sears, where they'd picked out some flower seeds (apparently Alfred felt the front lawn could use some livening up) and a few new gardening tools before heading to the check-out. Once through the long line, Bruce struck up conversation with the woman behind the counter as she rung up their items. Dick stood idly by and watched people pile through the exit going both in and out – how they nudged each other aside , but to no avail because there were enough people doing the same to them that they didn't manage to force their way through any faster. His mind wandered, and when he came back to he could see Bruce's retreating for maybe five steps away. The boy jolted and started rushing to catch up – until somebody knocked him sideways, and he was caught up in the traffic moving in the opposite direction toward one of the upward-moving escalators. He didn't think as he tried to scramble back, but nobody would budge. He couldn't even see over their heads to wonder if his adoptive father had even noticed.

"Bruce!"

And then he was whisked away.

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><p><em>It's so crowded, I can barely see anything. Where's Bruce? Where am <em>I_? Why hasn't he found me yet? He had to have noticed by now! Why didn't I stick with him?_

His mind was reeling and his eyes were searching desperately for an escape – anything to get him away from the crowds and the noise and the _everything. _Dick had never been a claustrophobic person, but he had to wonder if that was what it felt like. The clashing traffic was merciless, the flow of bodies unyielding.

It didn't matter that he was Robin, the Boy Wonder. That he probably should have had a better handle on himself and the situation. All he could think about was the tears burning at the corners of his eyes and the constant thought of his partner, his mentor, and where he could possibly be.

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><p><em>Where the hell could he have gone? He was right behind me! Damn it.<em>

Bruce found it easy with his jaw clenched and his gaze steely to keep people out of his way. But it didn't seem to make much difference, because he couldn't find Dick anywhere. He'd heard his name over the mix of voices, and he'd followed the direction that it came from without hesitation. Not that it did much for him; with the disorganization plaguing everywhere he looked, it would have been easy for his ward to be pulled halfway across the supermall within five minutes.

_Come on, you're _Batman_. What's the difference between the Joker and a couple thousand rude people? This is nothing. Think like a thirteen year-old boy. No, think like Robin. Where would he try to go?_

The answer was simple: away from the crowd. Out of the chaos, where he could calm down and try to think. Because the boy had to be stressed. Or worse.

He walked with a larger spring to his step, determined to find his adoptive son before anything else could happen.

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><p>Dick felt a surge of triumph when he finally found the edge of the droves, and he practically <em>dove<em>once he saw the break – nearly stumbling and falling when there was suddenly nothing to hold him back. It was a little alcove leading back to a set of bathrooms and door accesses to the back of the surrounding stores. He crashed once he was far enough back to have a little bit of privacy, and worked on calming his heartbeat. Once his breath had found rhythm, he sat, wrapped his arms around his tucked legs, and buried his face between his knees. All he wanted to do was sit there. Sit there and hope, and wait to be rescued.

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><p>Dick had no idea how long he'd been there, eyes tightly closed and body quivering slightly. He refused to move, even to raise his head and gain an inkling of the time. He didn't even shift when he heard footsteps approaching; slow at first, then faster as they neared. Only when he felt a hand on his shoulder did he look up, and the face that met him was one he never thought he'd want to see as badly as in that very moment.<p>

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><p>There were no words to describe how relieved he felt. Bruce was sure he'd scoured nearly every nook and cranny the mall had to offer, and there wasn't a trace of his boy. Finally he found his way down by the food court, and there by the bathrooms was where he saw the figure curled against the far wall. At first, he'd been hesitant. But the ball began to grow defining features as he neared, and he found himself at close to an all-out sprint once he'd hit the halfway mark.<p>

Dick didn't make any moves even when he stopped right next to him, but he seemed to tremble ever-so-slightly. The elder knelt down on one knee and gently reached out to rest his hand on the others' shoulder. Only then did the boy look up – and he was shocked to see watery blue eyes and tear-stained cheeks. For a moment he struggled for the right words. He still wasn't completely accustomed to the whole fatherly thing. But not thinking about it too much seemed to help.

"It's okay, Dick. I'm here."

And suddenly he found himself tipping backwards with the weight of a thirteen year-old boy practically throwing himself forward, smaller arms wrapping themselves tightly around his shoulders. They held the pose for a moment before Dick seemed to realize what he'd done, and he immediately scrambled backwards onto his knees.

"S-Sorry," He choked out, attempting to sound much more together than he actually felt. "I just... I'm fine." He paused, and a stubborn look flashed across his features. "I'm not crying."

Just the way he said it broke the businessman down somehow, and all he could do was throw his head back slightly and restrain his amusement to a chuckle. The boy looked confused at the reaction. Bruce forced himself to recover and shook his head slightly.

"It's okay to be afraid, Dick. You of all people should know that. You're never too old or mature to shed a tear; don't let me try to teach you otherwise."

Dick hesitated. He seemed to mull the words over, before giving a slight nod. Yes, his mentor was right. He looked like he was considering a reply, but instead stood up and wiped his eyes. Bruce followed suit, and was about to turn around when he hesitated.

"Damn it!" He backtracked at the language. "I mean, uh, darn." He felt like an idiot.

The teen tilted his head slightly, looking confused. "What?"

Bruce shook his head. "It's after four. I had a reservation that was supposed to hold 'til three, and it was your Christmas present–"

If there was any more to that sentence, he didn't get to finish it. His words were cut off by a laugh, shaky from the lingering effects of the previous trauma, that echoed softly off the walls. Bruce blinked and frowned slightly. "What's so funny? I'm serious."

"I know you are," Dick replied, covering his mouth with a hand in order to quell his chuckles. "That's the point." His laughter stifled, he relaxed his lips into a soft smile. "I don't need any presents. Just a second ago, all I wanted was..." He faltered, looking a tad embarrassed, but pressed on after a moment's hesitation. "You know, you. And you already gave me that." The teen's smile widened slightly. "That's all I need."

Bruce may not have been the best at deciphering emotions, but he caught the double-meaning in the words. He was thanking the elder man for both rescuing him today, and one year ago when he'd been orphaned. The acrobat was just too embarrassed to flat-out say it.

The millionaire cracked a small smile – maybe he was having too strong an effect on the boy, if he was that insistent about sharing his feelings in such a reserved fashion. He'd have to work on that.

"If you say so." He conceded, patting Dick once on the back. "Come on. Let's get out of here before anything else happens."


End file.
